Cirque de L'amour
by Gryffyn Addams
Summary: "He had friends, a job he loved, and he never wanted to change a thing about his life. Then again, if he had the chance to fix just one thing about his new life, he would remove the part of his brain that made him think Dipper Pines was drop-dead hot." When Wirt joins La Nouba, he has absolutely no idea of the wild ride he's in for. Cirque du Soleil AU. Rated T for minor swearing.


**Full explanation will be at the end, as I just want to get you guys started on reading this as quickly as possible, so I'll just put the disclaimer up here.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Over the Garden Wall, nor do I own Gravity Falls. Over the Garden Wall is property of Pat McHale and Cartoon Network, while Gravity Falls is the property of Alex Hirsch and Disney Channel/Disney XD. La Nouba is also owned by Cirque du Soleil. None of these are mine, much to my own dismay.**

 **Happy reading!**

* * *

"Flight 407 from Detroit, Michigan to Orlando, Florida now boarding."

Wirt quickly closed his book and stood up, stretching. The airport terminal seats weren't exactly comfortable. He grabbed his carry-on, slinging it over his shoulder, and just before he went through the entranceway to get on the plane, he looked around, checking that no one was watching, then grabbed his arm and pinched himself.

It hurt.

Yep, he was still awake.

It had been almost a month, and he still couldn't believe this was actually happening. This fantasy, this dream he had had ever since he was ten years old was actually happening.

When he was ten years old, his mother and step-father decided to take the family on a trip to Orlando over the summer. They would visit Disney World, Universal Studios, the whole nine yards. Wirt actually didn't remember much of the trip, but there was one thing he remembered, in perfect detail.

One of the performances they had gone to see was the Cirque du Soleil show at Disney Springs, La Nouba. In his mind Wirt could still picture the performers: jumping and flying around the stage like they were birds instead of humans; contorting themselves into pretzels or risking life and limb on the aerial silks and the trampolines and the rola bola; doing show-offy tricks with the cycles and the diabolos and on the trapeze. All of it had completely and utterly blown him away. It had been wild and crazy and colorful and awe-inspiring.

And Wirt could still remember what went through his ten-year-old self's mind as they were walking out of the theater. He had looked back up at the massive structure, glowing brightly against the warm darkness of the evening, then at the Cirque du Soleil insignia on one wall of the stage, and swore to himself that one day, he was going to be one of those performers.

At first, his step-father had laughed and supported his goal while he begged them to let him take aerial silks classes, obviously thinking that this was just a phase and he would grow out of it. His mother, on the other hand, saw that Wirt actually, really, and truly wanted to pursue this goal, and so signed him up after making him promise not to neglect his schoolwork. His little brother, Greg, also supported his ambitions, thinking it would be so cool if Wirt got into a circus.

The goal of actually getting into a Cirque du Soleil show had never gone away, and now, fourteen years later, after graduating high school with a 3.9 GPA and college with a bachelor's degree in English, Wirt could still hardly believe that his goal had been reached. He had sent in his application video over a year ago, when he saw on the Cirque du Soleil website that they were looking for new performers for La Nouba. Deciding to jump at the chance, Wirt had, with assistance from his aerial silk teacher, performed his audition and sent in the video. Then, about a month ago, an email from Cirque du Soleil came, saying he had passed auditions.

Wirt could remember staring at his computer screen for over five minutes, rereading every line to make sure he had read it correctly. Then he dove for his phone and, with shaking hands and heart gaining speed, called his mother and told her the news.

His mother and Greg were ecstatic; Wirt could actually hear Greg through the phone jumping up and down and whooping with joy and honestly, Wirt wanted to do that too. His step-father sounded very happy and immensely proud, which made Wirt's heart swell, because he had never really had a close relationship with his step-father.

Wirt's biological father, on the other hand, had immediately told him he was wasting his life performing in a circus and should put his BA in English to good use and find a teaching job or something. But Wirt had been too excited to care what his father thought, and had instead emailed them back saying he accepted their job offer.

And now, a month later, Wirt was boarding a plane to Orlando, to start his new job. It was an odd full-circle moment for Wirt, as La Nouba had been the show to cement his ambitions, and now he was going to go perform for it.

But, as usual with him, worried dread was beginning to form in his mind. What if, when he got there and practices started, they decided he wasn't good enough? That he had given off a different impression to them in his audition video? What if they told him to go back home, and never apply to any other Cirque du Soleil show again? What if when he got there, no one liked him? Or what if all the other performers thought his performance was terrible? It would be nice, to have a job where he was doing something he enjoyed, but it wouldn't be as good as it could be if no one liked him and he didn't find any friends. Was it too late to turn back now? Too late to turn around, walk out of the airport, and try to find a job with his English degree?

Wirt entered the cabin and scanned for an empty row. They were quickly filling up, so Wirt resigned himself to sitting next to a stranger and scanned for an empty seat instead. He finally found one in the middle section of the plane, and started for it before someone could take it.

Sitting in the window seat next to it was a young woman, about his age, with curly brown hair back in a ponytail and black-rimmed reading glasses. Her nose was buried in a book, which Wirt found reassuring, since it meant she would be too busy with her book to talk to him.

"Uh, excuse me?"

The young woman blinked and looked up at him.

"Uh, is this seat taken?" He gestured to the aisle seat, where a pink zebra-print shoulder bag and a purse was currently lying.

"Oh, no," the woman replied, grabbing the bag and purse and taking them off the seat. "Sorry, that's my stuff. Go ahead."

Wirt nodded in thanks and sat down, and the young woman went back to her book, pushing her glasses up her nose. Wirt curiously looked at the cover to see what she was reading.

" _Little Women_?" he said aloud.

The woman looked up. "What?"

"Sorry, I just couldn't help but notice; you're reading Little Women, right? By Louisa May Alcott?"

The young woman slowly nodded. "Yeah."

Wirt backtracked a bit. "Sorry, sorry," he apologized. "Just... um... how far are you? In the book?"

"Uh..." the woman flipped back a couple pages, "the part where Laurie tries to propose to Jo."

Wirt nodded. "Oh, cool. That's a pretty good part."

"Have you read it before?" the young woman questioned.

"Er..." Wirt rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and admitted, "Several times."

The young woman scrutinized him for a moment. "Wow," she finally remarked. "Never met a guy who likes reading Little Women. And I've read it several times, too."

"I mean," Wirt shrugged, feeling a bit more relaxed as they kept talking, "it was either I read that or I had to read _The Scarlet Letter_. Don't get me wrong, it's good, it's just..."

"Depressing?" she offered.

Wirt nodded. "Yeah, depressing. And a little too slow-paced for my liking."

"I feel ya on that. I didn't even finish the first chapter before I gave up."

Wirt laughed a bit at that. The young woman smiled a little sheepishly at herself. "To be fair, though," she continued, "I was only like, thirteen when I tried to read it. But anyway, yeah, _Little Women's_ pretty good. So, what's your business in Orlando?"

Wirt blinked at the sudden change of subject. "Huh?"

The young woman shrugged. "Well, we'll be sitting next to each other for the next few hours, so we might as well get to know each other a bit. So are you on vacation, or...?"

Wirt thought about that, and shrugged, seeing her logic. He felt abbot more relaxed about sitting next to this woman now, after talking with her a bit about books. "No, actually. I, uh, kind of, got a job there."

The woman grinned. "Me too! When I found out I got the job I was just like, '... what?' Literally, I've been pinching myself this past month. It's just so surreal, right?"

Wirt nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. "Exactly." He found himself returning the woman's excited grin, not as excitedly, but her grin was too contagious to not smile back.

"Well, congratulations on the job landing. Where's it at?"

Wirt suddenly found himself bursting at the seams as he thought of that email again. How had someone like him—a poetry-literature-nerd who had been doing aerial silks for the past fourteen years from a small town in Pennsylvania—been able to impress a company that might as well be the best of the best enough to hire him?

"It's at Cirque du Soleil," he said, and as soon as he finished he wanted to laugh out loud and jump for joy (even though he would get kicked off the plane).

The brunette woman's jaw dropped and her eyes widened. "Seriously?"

Wirt nodded, pressing his lips together so a grin of pure, giddy happiness wouldn't stretch across his face.

Luckily, the woman grinned instead, looking pleasantly surprised and excited. "No. Way. That's where I got hired too!"

Wirt gazed at her in surprise. "W-Wait, really? Seriously?"

The woman nodded vigorously, making the earrings dangling from her ears swing wildly around. "Yeah! I can't believe this, this is so cool! Small world, huh?"

Wirt found himself laughing along with his newfound friend, making the people across the aisle peer at them curiously. "This is amazing," he said, feeling the excitement rise up again. "I honestly never thought this would actually happen to... to someone like me."

The young woman nodded. "I know, right? I mean, even my gymnastics teacher said I had a slim chance of getting hired. But then the email came, and I got to shove it in her face."

The young woman's grin became a little satisfied as she remembered, making Wirt laugh. His aerial silk teacher had pretty much told him the same thing, but she had also said that if he worked hard to develop his talent, then he would have a better chance. And, like his mother and Greg, she had been ecstatic when he showed her the email.

But even though he felt more certain about this new job, there were those concerns again, increasing now with his new friend. What if when she saw his performance, she decided she didn't want to be friends with a total loser? What if when they got there she made new friends and forgot about him?

"Hey, um..." Wirt tentatively ventured, leaning a little closer.

The young woman noticed the nervous look that was obviously on his face now. "Yeah?"

"What if... when we get there..." Wirt said slowly, trying not to stumble over his words like he always did when he got nervous. "... they decide we're not good enough? Or what if they... they tell us to go back home, and never apply for another show again? What if... what if that happens?"

His new friend bit her lip and looked at the back of the seat in front of her, thinking about his words. Wirt fought the gnawing urge to ramble on a little more, because maybe she hadn't worried about that yet and thought he was worrying too much. His concerns were justified... right?

"Well," she finally said, turning back to him. "I guess that's always worrisome. I mean, God knows I freaked out about that a couple times, but... I like to think of it this way: when this plane takes off, that's it. There's no turning back when it takes off. So, if we ever wanted to turn back, our last chance would have been in the terminal. But neither of us did—we're on the plane. There's no going back now. I mean—sorry, I tend to ramble sometimes—my point is—since we're on the plane, we obviously wanted this job, so much so that we were willing to ignore any negative thoughts we might have had. Do you know what I'm saying?"

Wirt had to sit back in his chair to think about that. _Well dang_. "Huh," he said aloud. He turned back to her. "I've... never thought of it that way before."

His new friend nodded in understanding. "Yeah. And hey," she added, taking on a lighter tone and smiling optimistically at him, "they liked our performance enough to hire us, so we can't be that bad, right?"

Wirt nodded, laughing. "I guess you're right."

There was a soft ding, and a voice came over the speakers. "Attention all passengers. Our flight from Detroit, Michigan to Orlando, Florida will begin momentarily. Please turn off all cell phones or other electronic devices until the appropriate altitude. If you would now turn your attention to the front of the plane, our stewardesses will give you instructions on what to do in case of emergency. Thank you for flying Delta Airlines."

Wirt and his new friend paused their conversation to listen to the stewardesses' instructions. Once the instructions were finished, Wirt quickly shut off his phone and turned to the young woman, who was putting her own phone away in her purse. "I just realized I never caught your name," he said, smiling and chuckling sheepishly.

"Don't believe I dropped it," she quipped, giggling. She stuck out her hand, smiling brightly at him. "Olivia."

Wirt shook her hand, smiling back at her. "Wirt."

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, after all.

* * *

Two days later, Wirt jogged through Disney Springs, running past groups of families with children dressed in Disney garb or Mickey Mouse ears and the occasional group of teenagers who were spending their Saturday at Disney World. Ahead in the distance looked the La Nouba theater, looming over the rest of the buildings in all its Cirque du Soleil glory. Slung over one shoulder was the duffel bag he used for his aerial silk training, containing anything he might need; a set of training clothes, along with an extra set in case he got too sweaty, a water bottle, a small, light lunch (he had learned the hard way with that one), deodorant, a small first-aid kit, his wallet, his phone, and other miscellaneous things he might need.

It was a bright and early Saturday morning in October, also known as the first official day of rehearsal for the new performers. Wirt had promised to meet Olivia at the theater early so they could be on time, and also because they both (secretly) couldn't wait to get started.

The two of them had hit it off during the plane ride, choosing to talk to each other instead of reading the books in their carry-on bags. Wirt had been astounded he was able to get along so well with another person; usually when trying to make new friends he was beyond awkward. But with Olivia, it was vastly different; somehow, through their conversation, Wirt sensed a kindred spirit in the young woman, in that she was someone who preferred to be by herself, who liked reading books or watching shows or movies instead of going out to the mall, and who had a good circle of friends but didn't really want to branch out and make more. They talked about where they were from, what their families were like, what interests they had, and so forth, and Wirt had been surprised and disappointed when the pilot suddenly announced they were landing in Orlando. Since Olivia had family in Orlando she would be staying with until she found a place of her own, they had parted ways at the airport, with each other's numbers in their contacts and promising to meet up on Saturday before rehearsal started.

Wirt finally approached the building and stopped to catch his breath. As he scanned the area, looking for Olivia, his eyes caught sight of the Cirque du Soleil insignia, still nailed on the wall, exactly like it had been when Wirt was ten years old. Wirt smiled at the sign, then headed for the steps to enter the theater, where Olivia sat waiting for him, duffel bag at her feet.

Olivia stood up when she saw him coming and waved. "Hey, Wirt!"

Wirt waved back at her. Instead of what Wirt had done, which was wear normal clothes and pack away his training clothes to change into later, Olivia had chosen to wear her training clothes. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt with the Beatles on the front, black leggings that looked like they had been cut to below her knees, and a pair of running shoes.

Olivia grinned brightly at him as he ran up the steps to meet her. "Ready to go?"

Wirt nodded, excitement rising in him with every step he took. This was real. This was actually happening.

All new performers had received in their email instructions on where to go the first day of rehearsal. When Wirt and Olivia entered the lobby, looking exactly as Wirt remembered it with a few new features, Olivia stopped and looked around. Her eyes were shining with a wonderstruck look.

She stayed like that for so long, Wirt stepped over and waved a hand in front of her face. "Olivia..."

Olivia blinked and looked back at him, smiling sheepishly. "Heh, sorry. I've just never seen the inside of this place. It's pretty cool."

Wirt looked around, and smiled a bit. "It is," he agreed, then adjusted the strap on his duffel bag. "But we should probably get going."

They headed over to one hallway of the lobby, turned a corner, then another, and went down a couple flights of stairs. Then they turned another corner and went down a longer hallway. Up ahead in the hallway and behind them were scatterings of other new performers, so at least they were headed in the right direction.

Finally, they came to a fork at the end of the hallway, where it split off into two hallways to the left and to the right. Multicolored pieces of paper were attached all over the wall, being read by other new people. As Wirt watched, some turned and went down the left hall, while others went down the right one. He and Olivia got up to the wall and read the sign posted:

 _WELCOME, NEW PERFORMERS!_

INITIATION STARTS TODAY AT 7:45 AM.

THE PERFORMERS FOR THE FOLLOWING ACTS WILL TURN LEFT:

Diabolos

Aerial cradle

Rola bola

Power track & Trampoline

Any stand-ins or understudies for the above acts will turn left as well.

THE PERFORMERS FOR THE FOLLOWING ACTS WILL TURN RIGHT:

Cycles

Aerial ballet in silk

Flying trapeze

Cyr wheel

Any stand-ins or understudies for the above acts will turn right as well.

Practice begins after initiation at 8:15, and will go until 12:00. Lunch break will be until 2:00, after which afternoon rehearsal will go until 6:15.

 _WE ARE EXCITED TO SEE WHAT YOU ALL CAN BRING!_

 _WELCOME... TO LA NOUBA!_

Olivia turned to him. "What's your act?"

"Aerial silk," Wirt replied. It had been the act that stood out to him the most when he saw it; the five performers looked like they were actually flying as they soared above the stage, and completely in control as they spun and did tricks with their silks. When Wirt first tried it, it had been scary at first, but when he got over it he found he loved it. Flying above the air, gripping the smooth silk in your hands, made you feel like you were really, truly free from gravity's tight hold on your body. When he was up in the air, any problems, worries, or anxieties Wirt may have had all went away, disappearing completely and replaced by a feeling of calm tranquility.

Olivia's face fell and she bit her lip, looking back at the sign. "What about you?" Wirt asked.

"Trampolines,"

Wirt realized why Olivia looked so disappointed. "Oh. Well, we'll see each other at lunch, right?"

Olivia nodded. "Yeah, that works." She readjusted her duffle bag strap on her shoulder and gave him one last grin. "Hope everything goes well with you."

"Likewise," Wirt nodded. Olivia nodded back, then turned away from him. Wirt saw her shoulders go up and down as she took a deep breath, then she started briskly down the hallway.

Wirt turned away and looked down the right hallway. He sucked in a deep breath of his own, exhaling slowly. "Into the unknown," he murmured, before setting off down the hall.

* * *

Wirt sat heavily down at a table, wiping sweat off his forehead and taking a swig from his water bottle, welcoming the ice-cold fluid.

It was noon, which meant lunch break. Wirt had just spent the past three hours and forty-five minutes in the training room used by the aerial silk performers, meeting the other performers and going over basic moves with them. Since Wirt was a brand-new employee, he would be serving as understudy for a while, performing only if one of the main guys absolutely could not. He was warned, though, that he should still practice as vigorously as the main guys did, because it still was a circus and accidents could and sometimes did happen.

Speaking of the main guys, Wirt had found them very amiable and friendly, and were very helpful whenever he needed assistance. Their attitudes got rid of his concern that the other performers wouldn't like him at all or would be arrogant jerks. There were also twelve female aerial silk performers, who rotated in show schedules every day, and were also very nice. He even got into a brief discussion about Ernest Hemingway with one of them. One of the girls, a long-haired brunette, seemed very bubbly and excited about... well, everything.

Fellow performers aside, the practice itself—exhausting. All they had done this morning was review basic aerial silk moves, then go through exercises in how to climb up the silks faster as well as exercises in staying frozen in positions. They had done a lighthearted competition on who could stay in one position the longest without their arms and legs getting tired; they had all climbed up, then one of the main guys called out a position, and after maybe five to seven minutes he would call out another one, they switched, and the process was repeated over and over. Wirt had been able to stubbornly hold out for maybe fifteen minutes before he accepted the fact that he would collapse and hurt himself if he didn't climb down. The bubbly brunette (what was her name? Mary, or something?) had completely stolen the show, going toe to toe with one of the main guys. The girls cheered her on, while the three others whooped for the man. She hadn't won, but it had still been very close.

Wirt had spent the past fourteen years of his life up in the air on aerial silks, but he had _never_ done something so energy-draining. Maybe it was because he was stubbornly holding out, wanting to show that he wasn't a noodle-armed weakling who had gotten in on pure luck.

Wirt took another swig of water, then took out his lunch. The room he was in was the designated "cafeteria" for the performers, where they could eat if they had brought lunches of their own. Most preferred to go into Disney Springs and buy their lunch there, so there were only maybe a few handfuls of people in the room. Walking in the door at the moment was that bubbly brunette, who had her head turned over her shoulder as she talked to someone. Wirt was about to see who when Olivia appeared and plopped down next to him, letting out a breathy, "Hey," and slamming her water bottle down on the table. She was covered in sweat, and her hair was now in a messy bun instead of the ponytail she had it in that morning.

"How'd things go for you?" Wirt asked as Olivia took out a container of salad and a fork.

"Exhausting," Olivia replied, "but still fun. They had us test out the trampolines to see where we would get the most height out of our jumps, which was kind of fun, but still, pretty exhausting. How about you?"

Wirt thought about it, and shrugged. "Better than it could have gone, I guess."

Olivia nodded, and was about to say something when someone appeared in front of them. It was the bubbly brunette, currently wearing a friendly grin. "Hi, there! You guys looked lonely, so you mind if I sit here?"

She sat down without waiting for a reply. "Hey, you're the new aerial silk guy, right?" she said to Wirt, opening her water bottle and taking a swig.

Wirt nodded, still a bit taken aback by her forcefulness. "Y-Yeah."

"Nice work today. You really held out during that competition we had. Did you notice you were the third-to-last one to come down? That was better than our last guy could do, our last guy stunk."

"Uh..." Wirt felt his face grow a little warm, or maybe that was just the heat from all the exercise he had been doing. "Th-Thanks?"

"Don't mention it!" she chirped. "First day here, and you're already rockin'! You'll fit right into the La Nouba family! By the way, I never caught your name."

Wirt stared at her for a second, before blinking and offering his hand. "Oh, uh, my name's Wirt."

The brunette gave his hand a vigorous handshake. "Nice to meet your acquaintance, Wirt! I'm Mabel. What's your name?" she added to Olivia.

Olivia introduced herself, getting her own vigorous handshake from Mabel.

"Oh, sweet name! What act are you in?"

"Power act and trampoline."

Mabel's face lit up. "No way! My bro-bro's in that act!" She stood up and called someone over. "Dipper! Get your stupid butt over here! He's also the understudy for one of the other acts," she said as she sat back down. "It's the yo-yo act."

"Mabel," an annoyed voice from behind Wirt said. "For the last time, they're not yo-yos. They're diabolos."

Wirt turned, and froze.

Behind him was a twenty-four-year-old young man. He looked almost identical to Mabel, except... well, he was a man. He was still in his training clothes, but he hardly looked sweaty at all, and had a crop of curly brown hair underneath a white and blue baseball cap that had a blue pine tree on the front, and eyes that Wirt... honestly? That Wirt could get lost in.

Or, rather, that Wirt could have gotten lost in, if Mabel hadn't waved her hand and said, "Potato potato, bro-bro," and snapped him out of his trance. Then he realized: _the man was staring back at him_.

Oh my gosh, this was embarrassing. He was probably wondering why Wirt was staring at him so much. This time heat really flooded Wirt's face, and he turned away. Olivia looked at him quizzically, but said nothing.

The man shook his head at Mabel's reply, then went to sit in between Mabel and Olivia, and thankfully not next to Wirt. "Mabel, seriously, you can't call them yo-yos. What if I started calling your act flying silk dancing instead of aerial silks?"

"Excuse me," Mabel replied indignantly. "I'll have you know it is not just flying and dancing around on silks! That makes it sound unprofessional!"

The man gave her a smug look. "I rest my case."

Mabel slapped him on the shoulder, making him laugh.

 _His laugh sounded like musical bells..._

Wirt wanted to smack himself. Okay, now he just sounded weird.

The man turned to Olivia. "Hey, I recognize you. You're one of the newbies in the trampoline act, right?" Olivia nodded. "You're pretty good already. Did you practice on trampolines like ours?"

"Um, no. I just did gymnastics, nothing else," Olivia admitted. "But in the email, they told me they were putting me in the trampoline act."

"Oh. Makes sense, I guess."

"Plus," Olivia added, "I don't think you could go anywhere to get trampolines like the ones here."

The man chuckled. "That's true." He offered her a hand. "Dipper Pines. If you didn't know already, the girl stuffing her face is my sister Mabel."

"I am not stuffing my face!" Mabel exclaimed, her voice muffled by a mouthful of food.

Olivia rolled her eyes humorously and returned the handshake. "Olivia Roberts. And this is Wirt, he's in the aerial silk act with Mabel."

Darn it, why did she have to draw attention to him? Dipper looked over at him and gave him a friendly smile, and Wirt genuinely thought he was going to pass out from his heart racing so fast (or maybe that was just because his heart was still racing from the exercise). "Hey, nice to meet you. I'll warn you, though, make any move on my sister and you'll wish you had declined this job."

Ignoring Mabel's indignant response to that ("I can take care of myself, bro-bro!"), and sensing that Dipper was half-kidding, Wirt raised two fingers and replied, "Scout's honor."

Dipper nodded, satisfied. He turned back around to ask Mabel a question, and Wirt saw a small drop of sweat roll down the side of his head and disappear under his shirt.

It was then that it occurred to Wirt that he might have a bit of a problem.

* * *

As the days, and later weeks trickled by, Wirt found he was enjoying his new job (he hated calling it a "job" because that made it sound boring and nothing at all like what it really was) much more than he ever thought he would, for three general reasons:

Reason one: he was starting to get used to the vigorous practices. The evening after his first day, he had stumbled up to his hotel room and collapsed on his bed, and was out like a light. But as the days passed, he slowly began to get used to the vigorous schedule, and the grueling regimen they were all on. He slowly learned the show, or rather, what he could learn of it; the show tried to never have the exact same moves in its acts twice, so as to give the audience a fresh new experience. So every day, they changed up the moves a little bit. Since Wirt and the two other new aerial silk performers, two girls named Candy and Lorna, were still new, they were only taught the general moves. And it wasn't long before Wirt was enjoying every minute of it; he had never felt so enthusiastic about being a part of something in his life.

Reason two: the other aerial silk performers completely shot down his anxious concerns about what they would be like. Even though most of the time he was quiet and withdrawn, they took him into their ranks without question or judgement. Instead of being arrogant and overly-critical, they were all friendly and constructively-critical. All of them, gradually even Wirt, felt comfortable enough around each other to give constructive criticism on each other's performances during practice. Mabel, of course, brought the sunshine to practice every day, smiling and laughing and chattering on about anything and everything, and seemed to have a sixth-sense that allowed her to know when someone was feeling down. Wirt was beginning to see why Mabel had called them all the La Nouba family; it was a tight-knit group.

Reason three: he actually had friends. Back in Pennsylvania, the only real friend he ever had was a girl named Sara, and he occasionally kept in contact with her. But apart from Sara, he never really had any people he could safely call his friends. Here in Orlando, though, he had not one but _four_ real, true friends. They all sat together during their lunch break, and just chatted with each other as they ate, all of them sharing similar interests in one way or another. Wirt and Mabel shared a love for the arts, and found plenty to talk about in regard to that. Mabel and Olivia bonded over their mutual love of _Hamilton_ , which made Dipper groan and faceplant into the table when he found out, and he told a bewildered Wirt that his twin sister used to have a crush on Alexander Hamilton and now that there was musical about him she sang the songs non-stop (which Mabel and Olivia took as a musical cue). Olivia and Dipper were apt to get into debates about science fiction, mysteries, and some shows called _Doctor Who, Sherlock_ , and _Rick and Morty_ ; Dipper also referred Olivia to a show called _Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency_ , and after watching it Olivia concluded that one character in the show sounded a lot like Wirt (who after watching the trailer concluded that he couldn't hear the resemblance). And Dipper and Wirt, when Dipper wasn't debating shows with Olivia, got into conversations about writing and classic literature, which made Mabel laugh at them and call them nerds. Wirt found Dipper very knowledgeable about the subject, and thus especially enjoyed their discussions. (And it was just for that reason—not because Wirt liked even seeing the man.)

His father hadn't known a single thing when he told him he was wasting his life, Wirt eventually concluded. Passing auditions into La Nouba was the best thing that could have ever happened to him. He had friends, a job he loved, and he never wanted to change a thing about his life.

Then again, if he had the chance to fix just one thing about his new life, he would remove the part of his brain that made him think Dipper Pines was drop-dead hot.

Wirt first figured out that maybe he had more than just a bit of a problem when the aerial silk performers went to watch part of the afternoon practice for the trampoline act. It was apparently something the different acts liked to do, which at least explained why the rola bola performers had come in to watch the aerial silk practice that one time. The trampoline rehearsals were held in a different part of the "Employees Only" area, in a room maybe even larger than the aerial silk practice room where only a narrow strip of the room floor was bare; the rest of the room housed the largest trampolines Wirt had ever seen, all of them riveted securely to the floor and sticking out from the walls. As soon as the aerial silk performers filed in and made themselves comfortable on the floor (in any part of the floor not covered with duffel bags, anyway), Mabel cupped her hands and whooped, "Yea-yuh, Dipdop and Livvie!"

"Mabel!" Dipper yelled from over on the trampolines. Olivia just laughed along with everyone else.

According to Jason, who was one of the older silk aerialists, the trampoline performers liked to show off whenever one of the other acts watched them practice. "Urban" was put on over speakers hanging from the ceiling, and the performers did a run-through of their performance, the aerial silk performers watching respectfully.

The trampoline performers certainly lived up to their reputation—if Wirt could describe the number in one word, it would be _crazy_. They were all jumping around, pressing themselves against the trampolines lining the walls and bouncing back again, some even showing off more than they should have by doing flips and cartwheels. A few people were springing up so high they almost touched the ceiling. They all looked like they were flying around. A couple more people, who were probably the biggest show-offs there, jumped atop the trampolines lining the walls and did back handsprings before flipping back onto the trampolines. All the performers, even with their occasional improvisations, seemed perfectly coordinated, yet wild and crazy.

Wirt's attention was focused on the two performers he knew: Dipper and Olivia. Olivia seemed to be enjoying herself immensely, because whenever he was able to get a good look at her she had the biggest grin on her face. She was one of the people deciding to show off by doing flips in the air and cartwheels on the trampolines. She seemed perfectly in her element, and he supposed she was pretty close to how he looked whenever he was up in the air on his silks, but he was also struck by how professional she seemed. They had only been in Orlando about a month, and already she looked show-ready.

Admittedly, though, and he felt a little guilty about it afterwards, most of his attention during the performance was on Dipper. Dipper's toned and fit body flew through the air like the professional he obviously was, and although he wasn't one of the ones showing off, Wirt's attention was fixated on him during most of the performance. The trampoline performers were clearly working to become a perfect well-oiled machine, but Dipper was _perfect_ , no machinery necessary. He was like a bird flying through the air, then like a monkey as he sprang from one trampoline to another, then back to a bird, flipping and twisting through the air. Every time he fell back down through the air, Wirt's heart skipped a beat, and for a second he literally thought Dipper was going to break through the trampoline and crash to the floor, but then Dipper would twist his body so that his feet landed first. This wasn't just a circus act anymore—what Dipper Pines was doing was pure _art_.

When the song ended and the performers got into their posing positions all over the trampolines, the aerial silk performers burst into applause, Mabel leading them all in whooping and cheering as the performers bowed.

Since they had gone to see them as practice was ending, by the time they finished practice was over. Wirt wanted to stick around and congratulate Dipper and Olivia on a great performance, but as Dipper and Olivia jumped off the trampolines, and he was exposed to Dipper's glowing smile of happiness, he turned tail and ran out of the room.

When he was far enough away from the practice room, Wirt sagged against the wall, breathing hard. He was trying to think of something— _anything_ —other than what he had just seen, but the image of Dipper's heart-stopping grin remained imprinted in his brain, like it had been glued to his eyelids with superglue. His heart was racing, his cheeks were flushed (even though the hallway was pleasantly cool), and he had goosebumps on his skin that he was certain weren't from the air conditioning.

 _You are disgusting_ , a slimy little voice sneered in his mind. _You've got a crush on your best friend, your_ male _best friend._

 _I do not_ , Wirt thought back firmly.

 _Why even pretend it's not true?_ the slimy voice hissed. _Besides, you really think he likes you any more than just as a friend? That's pathetic. You're pathetic. And when he finds out you have a crush on his, he's going to think you're a hopeless, pathetic, disgusting little fool. After all, who could ever love someone like you?_

"Wirt!"

Wirt looked up and almost groaned at his horrible luck when he saw Dipper running down the hallway towards him, paying no attention to the people streaming out the doors along with him. Dipper slowed to a power-walk when he got closer, until he was right in front of the taller man and stopped. "Hey, man, you okay?" Dipper questioned.

"Uh…" What was Wirt supposed to say? _Oh, yes, Dipper, I'm okay. If by 'okay' you mean 'I just realized that I have a gigantic crush on you when I didn't even know I was gay at all but who could blame me because you look amazing literally every time I see you', then yes, I'm just dandy._ "Y-Yeah, I'm—" Wirt swallowed. "I'm okay. Just… came to a… really… serious… realization in… there."

 _Nice save,_ he thought sarcastically.

Dipper tilted his head, and looked at him in a way that made Wirt feel as though the other man were staring into the depths of his soul. Then Dipper said quietly, "Okay. Sorry, just… Olivia got kind of worried when you ran off, so…"

Wirt wiped his brow, even though there wasn't any sweat there, and pushed himself off the wall. "I, uh, I think I'm good now."

Dipper nodded, even though he still looked like he didn't believe Wirt's lie. "You sure?"

"Yep, totally fine."

"Okay."

Later on, Wirt was packing up his duffel bag in what was officially named the men's restroom but everyone called the boys' locker room, as it had showers as well as bathroom stalls. He heard footsteps outside in the hallway, although they were muffled by the door, as well as muffled voices. As the door was pushed open, Wirt stiffened as a familiar laugh and even more familiar voice reached his ears.

"—do not, shut up. I'm just going to go get my bag, then we'll go. I'll meet you guys outside."

A few seconds later, Dipper walked into view, and stopped when he saw Wirt sitting on a bench in front of his duffel bag. For a long, very awkward moment, there was just silence between the two men.

Then Dipper said, "Hey."

"Hey," Wirt returned, and quickly looked back down at his duffel.

Dipper grabbed his bag from where it was lying against one wall, then started out of the room. Wirt kept his gaze on the inside of his duffel, even when he heard Dipper's footsteps pause, and then suddenly felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He fought off the urge to shiver, then looked up to see Dipper sitting next to him, looking at him with a sincere expression.

"Listen, man, if you ever need to talk about something bothering you… you can always come and talk to me about it. Whatever it is, you can tell me."

Wirt swallowed, then quietly and nervously ventured, "Anything at all?"

Dipper nodded. "Anything at all."

"Even… even if it makes me seem like a freak?"

"Absolutely. No judgement here, man. I promise."

 _He's lying,_ said that slimy little voice. _He's just trying to make you feel better. But when he finds out you have a huge crush on him, he's going to think you're a pathetic, disgusting fool._

At any other time, Wirt would have listened to that voice. But he stared into Dipper's chocolate-brown eyes, and decided he believed what he was saying.

Wirt nodded, the beginnings of a small smile forming. "Okay. Thanks, Dipper."

Dipper smirked in a friendly way at him, and patted his shoulder before standing up. "See you tomorrow, Wirt."

"Yeah."

And Wirt would have been lying if he said that those chocolate eyes of Dipper Pines hadn't stayed in his memory the rest of the evening.

* * *

One thing Wirt was pleasantly surprised to discover was that, along with everything else he had in common with Olivia, they also happened to have their birthdays only three days away from each other. Upon discovering this fact, Mabel, to absolutely no one's surprise, immediately went to work planning a combined party for the both of them, hosting it on the day exactly in between their birthdays.

The party was in the aerial silk practice room, and all the performers from both the aerial silk and the trampoline acts were present for as long as they could, even though most of them eventually had to leave to get ready for that night's show. Dipper, regrettably, was one of those people, as he was filling in that night for one of the girls that did the diabolo act.

"How's that going to work?" Olivia questioned. The four friends were sitting on one of the mats amidst their fellow performers. "Aren't they all young girls?"

"Most of the time, yeah," Dipper replied. "Most of the understudies are girls, too. Mostly I help them run through the number. Sometimes, though, when none of the other understudies can fill in, I do it."

Mabel giggled and nudged Dipper's shoulder. "Yeah, Dipdop's the only guy in an act full of girls! They even make him look like a girl whenever he goes on!"

Olivia looked very intrigued. "They do?"

"No they do not!" Dipper barked before Mabel could reply. "I still look like a guy!"

"Pssh, have you ever seen yourself in your diabolo costume, bro-bro? You look like a little girl!"

"That's the point, Mabel! I'm supposed to look like a little kid! And I do not look like a little girl; I wear a guy's costume!"

"Okay, I'm curious now," Olivia stated. "Got any pictures?"

"Do I!" Mabel exclaimed, digging her phone out of her pocket and swiping it open.

Dipper groaned and put his face in his hands as Olivia eagerly scooted closer. Wirt wanted to laugh at him, but instead decided to pat him on the back. "It's probably not that bad—" Wirt started to say, but Dipper held up a hand and counted down, his face still in one hand and voice muffled.

"Three. Two. One."

"Oh my GOD!"

And right on cue, Olivia burst into hysterical laughter at whatever picture Mabel had showed her.

Mabel grinned at her. "I know, right? He looks like a neon-green peacock!"

Olivia recovered enough to look at Dipper, smiling uncontrollably and still giggling a bit. "Du-hude, you," more giggling, "you look like…" more giggling, "like the Green Bird laid an egg and it came out like you looking like that!" She collapsed back into laughter, with Mabel joining her, even though her comparison wasn't _that_ hilarious.

Dipper fixed the two young women with a withering look. "Gee, thanks," he drawled sarcastically.

"Let me see," Wirt reached for the phone. He took a good long look at the picture, trying not to spend too much time on how very form-fitting the fluorescent green costume looked on Dipper.

"Just say it," Dipper told him in a resigned voice. "I look like an idiot."

"No, you don't look like an idiot," Wirt said automatically. "You look fine to me."

Oblivious to the panic attack Wirt was having in his mind for letting that slip out, Dipper fixed him with a curious look. "You really think I don't look stupid?"

"O-Of-Of course not." Darn it, why? He hadn't stammered this much since high school. "Kind of… outlandish, I guess, but not stupid."

Dipper glanced over at Olivia and Mabel, who were still laughing themselves silly over the pictures of Dipper in his diabolo costume on Mabel's phone.

"Ignore them," Wirt took hold of Dipper's chin and turned his head back around to him. "You like doing the diabolo act, right?"

"Well, yeah—"

"Then it shouldn't matter what people think about your costume. If it helps drive the performance, then it's not stupid."

Then Wirt realized he was still holding Dipper's chin in his hand and quickly let go of it, although he did so very reluctantly.

Dipper was gazing at him with a contemplative expression. "I've… never thought of it that way," he confessed. He offered Wirt a small smile. "Thanks, Wirt."

Wirt's heart fluttered a bit, but he forced it to keep pumping normally as Dipper's gaze turned to the clock hanging on the wall.

His face fell. "Aw man, I gotta go. Gotta get ready for the show, and all that." He stood up off the floor and stretched. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Bye, Dipper," Olivia bade goodbye. "Break a leg."

"Yeah, break that leg clean, bro-beans!" Mabel added.

Dipper quirked an eyebrow at Mabel, but gave a half-smile anyway. "Thanks, Mabel. Oh, by the way, Wirt…"

Wirt watched him go over to his duffel bag, unzip it, and rifle through it for a second before taking out a wrapped package. He walked back over and handed it to Wirt. "I got this for you," he stated, as a means of explanation.

Instantly, Wirt opened his mouth to say that he didn't have to get him anything, but Dipper jumped in before he could even start. "I wanted to get you a gift. I mean, come on, you're twenty-five now. Turning a quarter-century is kind of a milestone, man."

"Hey, what about me?" Olivia demanded.

Dipper ignored her, and instead shot Wirt that friendly smirk, the one that made Wirt's heart race like he had just run a marathon. "Happy birthday, Wirt."

Then he turned, and left.

Wirt watched him go, then looked down at the package in his hands. Lifting a hand (that was shaking a bit but he was choosing to ignore that), he tore off the wrapping paper as Mabel and Olivia scooted closer to see what it was.

When he had torn the wrapping paper away, Wirt saw that it was a stuffed Stitch doll about the side of his torso if he were to lay it sideways.

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Dipper got you a stuffed animal?"

Wirt didn't reply, only stare in bemusement at the stuffed Stitch doll. Why had Dipper gotten him a Stitch doll?

Mabel inspected it. "Hey, I've seen that before,"

"Where's it from?" Wirt asked her.

"It's from a shop in Disney Springs. Those dolls aren't exactly cheap, though. I think this one's, like, twenty dollars or something."

And then Wirt remembered: two weeks ago, he, Dipper, Mabel, and Olivia had gone walking through Disney Springs while on their lunch break, choosing to eat there that day. Mabel and Olivia had run ahead to check something out, leaving Wirt and Dipper to walk at a more relaxed pace. Wirt had looked up from checking what time it was, just in time to look into a store window, where he saw Stitch dolls exactly like the one he currently held in his hands.

 _"See something you wanna buy?" Dipper teased him._

 _"U-Uh, no, just… I saw the Stitch dolls," he gestured into the window, "and that just made me think about_ Lilo and Stitch _."_

 _"Did you ever watch it as a kid?"_

 _"Yeah. It had to be one of my favorite movies of all time."_

 _He remembered._

Wirt had the sudden urge to hug the doll to his chest and never let go of it, because Dipper had remembered something he had just said as an offhand remark.

"Wirt," Olivia snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Wirt!"

He snapped out of his trance. "Huh?"

"Any particular reason Dipper got you a Stitch doll for your birthday?"

He stared down at the doll, not replying for a second. Then he said quietly, "I… I told him once that _Lilo and Stitch_ used to be my favorite movie."

Olivia smiled at Wirt's touched look. "Aw, that was so sweet of him to remember you saying that."

"EEEEE!" Mabel clutched her heart, completely taken in by the sweetness of the situation. "I KNEW it! I KNEW Dipper had a romantic side! Tell me your secret, Wirt, 'cause I've been trying to bring out Dipper's romantic side ever since he had that crush on Wendy!"

Wirt's face fell and he looked up at Mabel. "What?" He was a little ashamed to admit his voice cracked.

"Yeah! When we were twelve, Dipper had this HUGE, and I mean HUGE crush on this high school girl named Wendy. He thought she was an angel or something, but he never admitted it to her. Dipper _never_ admits it when he has a crush on someone, and it's really stupid, but I'm his twin sister, so I can always tell."

 _He thought she was an angel or something, but he never admitted it to her._

 _He thought she was an angel or something._

 _He thought she was an angel._

 _Dipper likes girls._

 _Ha!_ And there was that slimy little voice again, this time barking a laugh of triumph. _Told you! He doesn't even like guys, he likes girls. Oh, he is seriously going to think you're a disgusting piece of crud when he finds out you have a crush on him!_

"Wirt, are you okay?" Olivia asked him.

 _Oh yes, Olivia, I'm just fine. I mean, I just found out the guy that I have a gigantic crush on likes girls, which means that I really am a pathetic, disgusting fool of a human being, but apart from that, I'm great._

"Fine."

The curt dismissal sounded out of place, even to Wirt's own ears. Almost robotically, he stood up off the floor. "I should go. Thanks for the party, Mabel."

He left without another word, and without looking towards the entrance to the stage area, where right now, a twenty-four-year-old man with curly brown locks of hair and chocolate-brown eyes that Wirt could have drowned in was performing the diabolo act without a care in the world.

* * *

Wirt stayed in his catatonic state for over two weeks after that night. At practice, he went through all the moves almost robotically and without much thought; at lunch he sat and stared intently at the table, not trusting himself to look at anyone, especially not Dipper Pines; when he returned to the apartment he had been able to lease in Orlando, he was content just to lie on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, and recite aloud the depressing poetry being written down in his mind, while the Stitch doll lay abandoned on the bed at his feet.

And life went on around him. The other aerial silk performers certainly noticed how out of it he was, especially Mabel, but most of them agreed to just leave him alone. Mabel, though, was determined to cheer him up again, even though most of her attempts failed. Olivia obviously noticed as well, but since she didn't do anything she probably had no idea of what to do. And as for Dipper—Wirt found he didn't care if Dipper noticed anymore. Let Dipper see how depressed he was; see how Wirt had a huge crush on his straight best friend; see how he really was a hopeless, pathetic, disgusting little fool.

Orlando was supposed to have been not just the place where Wirt started a new career, but also the place where Wirt was going to turn over a fresh leaf, start anew. And one of the things he had told himself that he wasn't going to do anymore was listen to that slimy little voice inside his head, telling him day in and day out that he was stupid, and pathetic, and not worth anyone's time. But oh, look: here he was, listening to and believing every word that little voice said.

Because all of it was true.

One day, in early December, Olivia approached him during their lunch break and sat down next to him. "We need to talk, Wirt," she stated firmly, leaving absolutely no room for argument.

"About what?" Wirt asked half-heartedly. Was there any point in acting dumb? He knew what she wanted to talk to him about.

"You know freaking well what," Olivia snapped.

"No, I really don't," Wirt said, almost sarcastically, turning to look at her. "How's living with Mabel going?"

After living with her relatives in Orlando for over a month, Olivia had decided not to impose on them any longer and started looking for her own place to live. When she asked Mabel if there were any apartment buildings with vacancies, Mabel instead invited her to be roommates at Mabel's own apartment, saying she had been looking for someone who wanted to split rent anyway.

"Fine," Olivia answered, just as curtly as Wirt's own "Fine" had been two weeks ago. "Wirt, you've been completely out of it for the past two weeks. And I may have contacts, but I'm not blind. It has something to do with Dipper, doesn't it?"

Now Wirt fixed her with a look of shock. _How did she…_

"I saw you, Wirt. When Mabel said Dipper used to have a crush on Wendy, you looked crushed. And speaking of crushes, I'm beginning to think you have one. On Dipper. Am I right, or am I wrong?"

Wirt could tell Olivia had rehearsed this, because in any other circumstance, she would have asked beforehand if it was okay for her to tell him what she thought.

 _See?_ the slimy voice taunted. _Even she thinks you're disgusting._

 _You're wrong._

 _Am I? Then tell me, would she have brought this up if you had been acting this way about a girl? She wouldn't have rehearsed what she was going to say if you liked girls._

"Why do you even care?" Wirt's voice sounded wrong, even to himself. It sounded bitter, resigned, and accusing, like he thought Olivia was lying about caring.

Olivia fixed him with a stare. "Because you're my friend, Wirt. Look, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I'm going to tell you right now, Dipper's worried about you."

That made Wirt perk up a little. "He—He is?"

"Yep. Just yesterday he asked me if it was somehow his fault you're so out of it. And he didn't just ask; he was freaking out. Like, a legitimate freak out. You don't talk to him, you turn away whenever he comes into the room, you don't even look at him during lunch break, which is now making him freak out that it's his fault you're like this. He cares about you, Wirt. A whole lot. Probably more than he'll ever admit."

 _She's lying!_ the slimy voice hissed desperately. _He doesn't care for you at all—he's just worried he's a horrible person instead of the nice guy he thought he was, and once she tells him it's not his fault, he'll go right back to living the way he always did when you weren't around._

When Wirt didn't reply for a while, Olivia sighed. "Look, at least think about what I've said, okay?"

Wirt looked up at her and gave her a small smile, that Olivia looked reassured to see. He nodded. "I will. Thanks, Olivia."

That afternoon, during afternoon practice, he went back into rehearsing with reinvigorated enthusiasm that everyone, especially Mabel, was relieved to see return.

* * *

The last thing he heard was someone's scream of "WIRT!" before the world went black.

They had been doing an aerial silk act rehearsal on the stage in the main theater, all of the males taking turns doing the act. It had been Wirt's turn to go. While he was getting ready to start, he noticed that the trampoline act performers had entered the theater to watch, Dipper among them. The thought of Dipper watching Wirt perform, much like Wirt had watched Dipper perform, made Wirt's heart thud against his ribcage with excitement. But he told himself that, regardless of any excitement he may have about certain people watching him perform, he had to keep a clear head while up in the air. Without a clear head, he was more likely to lose his grip and fall.

It would be kind of difficult, though; it had been three months since the two-week-long funk Wirt put himself in, and now, by mid-February, he had gone back to his normal routine. Olivia's words about Dipper really caring about him had given him his motivation back, along with enough emotional clarity to accept that if Dipper only cared about him as a friend, then friends they would stay. He was content to live like that for now; just friends, and nothing else.

He still had a huge crush on him, though.

His performance had gone without a hitch until about halfway through. Wirt adjusted the silk around his waist as he gripped the silk above him with his other hand, then took a deep breath and let go, so that he went spinning down the silk. At the correct point, he reached up to break his fall and go soaring around the stage, and pushed his body forward to do just that. The move had been executed perfectly, but while he was circling the stage, his foot somehow slipped out of the loop he had put around it, dangling down as he flew through the air. Wirt felt the familiar tug of gravity pull at his foot, and as he tried to bring it up to reinsert it into the loop, he lost his grip on the silk, and was sent plummeting towards the stage.

When he came to, dark spots clouded his vision, and a loud, high-pitched ringing filled his ears. His forehead immediately exploded in pain, and he saw dark shadows appear in his vision.

"Wirt?" The call sounded very muffled, like his ears had been stuffed with cotton balls. "Wirt! Can you hear me?"

"Oh my God, is he okay?"

"Someone call an ambulance!"

He tried to draw breath, but couldn't.

"He's not breathing!"

"Wirt!"

Someone was pressing down on his chest repeatedly in a steady pattern.

Then someone was saying something, but again, since his ears felt like they had been stuffed with cotton balls, he couldn't hear what they were saying very well. It sounded like they were saying his name, and something else.

And suddenly his lungs could work again. He took a large breath of air and shot up off the stage. His vision swam, and he swayed, before feeling a hand on his back.

"Take it easy, Wirt."

It was Dipper. And he sounded very, very relieved.

"Oh my God!" Olivia appeared out of nowhere, kneeling down beside him, a look of fear etched on her face. "Wirt, are you okay?"

Mabel appeared right in front of his face, the look of concern on her face looking very out-of-character for her. "Wirt, you stopped breathing for a second, we thought you'd died!"

Jason appeared out of the crowd of people that had gathered around the four. "There's an ambulance coming right now," he reported, making everyone sigh in relief.

"An ambulance?" Wirt mumbled, his mind trying to catch up. "No, no, tell it to not come, 'm fine."

"No, Wirt, you're not fine," Dipper said to him. "You just fell from twenty feet in the air."

"Yeah, bu' 'm fine," he mumbled again, and moved to stand up. Dipper grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down.

"No, you are not fine, Wirt!" Dipper snapped at him, now looking angry that Wirt was being stubborn. "Didn't you hear what I just said? You took a fall from twenty feet in the air, and it's only thanks to Mabel that you've only got a sprained ankle. You could've broken both your legs!"

"'S not sprained," Wirt mumbled, and moved to stand up again. He put pressure on one foot to stand up. "See, I can stan—AH!"

As he began to stand up, a burning pain shot through his leg from his ankle. He fell backward, only to be caught by Dipper. Dipper gripped his shoulders and shook them, and Wirt had never seen him look so angry in the three months he had known him.

"Quit being so stubborn, Wirt!" he shouted at him. "You could have died! Do you have any idea of what I would've done if you had died?!"

Wirt didn't have an answer to that. All he did was stare at Dipper as his brain turned even faster, now trying to process what Dipper had just said as well as catch up with reality.

"Take it easy, Dipper," Thank God for Olivia. "He's not dead, he's going to be fine. But seriously, Wirt, stop trying to stand up until the ambulance comes."

Wirt discovered later that as he was falling through the air, a quick-thinking Mabel had tried to make a cradle of sorts out of both her and his own silks to try and break his fall. In that regard she had been unsuccessful, but she had been able to slow his fall enough that he didn't obtain serious injury.

He was forced to spend the next four days in the hospital, since along with a sprained ankle he also had a sprained wrist and a concussion. Those four days were not fun, mainly because when Wirt told the doctors he was from Pennsylvania and was forced to write down family information, the doctors thought it would be prudent to call his mother and tell her what happened. His mother was crying, actually crying, while he talked to her, and made Wirt's heart hurt with guilt for making her so hysterical. He also found himself thanking the higher power for a reasonably-thinking mother, as she didn't demand he quit and come home immediately. Eventually his step-father took her off the phone, asked him if he was all right and told him to get better soon, then hung up.

The rest of his friends—the rest of the La Nouba family, really—helped to make his stay more bearable. Olivia made sure to call and text him whenever she got the chance, and on the day she was able to visit him they talked about everything from _Little Women_ , famous poets, and literature trivia to political news, whether or not Christopher Columbus was an idiot, and stories from their respective homes in Michigan and Pennsylvania. Mabel sent him text messages consisting of goofy selfies, inspirational quotes, literature memes that she knew he would find funny, and funny pictures to lighten his mood and give him a laugh. And on the day Olivia came to visit, she brought with her a get-well card that not just the other aerial silk performers, but the entire La Nouba cast had signed.

But the person who did the most to make his hospital stay more bearable was Dipper. He had accompanied Wirt on the ambulance ride to the hospital, helped him fill out the hospital paperwork, and had only left when Mabel threatened to come and drag him back to his apartment herself (and Mabel was not a woman of empty threats). Then during the four days Wirt was stuck there, he came every day without fail, filling him in on what went on during practices, telling him about any well-wishers who wished him a speedy recovery, or just talking with him. Another thing Dipper did—that he really didn't have to do but did anyway—was sneak in food for him, which Wirt was very grateful for, since hospital food really was as horrible as everyone said it was.

There was also something that happened on the third day, and to Wirt's unfortunate luck (and later _fortunate_ luck), Dipper was present while it happened.

They were talking about the poetry of John Keats (well, more like Wirt taking about John Keats and Dipper sitting and listening attentively) when Wirt's phone rang. He took it out to look at the Caller ID, then groaned at who it was. He turned to Dipper. "Do you mind if I…"

Dipper shook his head. "No, go ahead."

He made no move to leave the room to give him more privacy. Wirt looked back at his phone, debating on whether he should answer it or let it go to voicemail. Finally, though, he figured it would be better if he just got it over with, and swiped to answer. Dreading what was inevitably going to happen (who told him about this? His mother?), he pressed his phone to his ear.

"Hi, Dad."

"Wirt Jordan Palmer, I knew this was going to happen!" It was his father. "I knew, right from the minute your mother told me about this ridiculous job, that something like this was going to happen! I told you it was a bad idea to go and join that circus, because you inevitably would someday fall and kill yourself!"

"I seem to remember you telling me I was wasting my life with a career in Cirque du Soleil," Wirt replied, trying to look anywhere but at Dipper, "not that I would someday fall and kill myself. Who told you I was in the hospital, anyway?"

"Your mother." Of course she did.

"And what did she tell you to do? Call me and try to comfort me about almost killing myself? Because if so, you're doing great so far." At any other time, Wirt would have tried to hide his irritation. Now, though, he let the sarcasm flow into his words.

"Don't take that tone with me, young man, I am still your father!"

"I am twenty-five and a legal adult, Dad. I can make my own life choices, and I most certainly do not have to show any respect to a deadbeat father who lives to criticize his own son!"

His father gave an exasperated sigh. "If you are an adult, then start acting like one, Wirt. And for once in your life stop acting like a selfish child whose head is filled with irrational dreams!"

"Guess you of all people would know when someone's being selfish." Wirt's voice was rising along with his anger.

"Wirt…" His father's voice had lowered now, and was no longer angry.

"What?" Wirt snapped, part of him wanting to hang up the phone on him.

"Wirt, I am your father, and contrary to how I may act, I do care about you. I knew something like this would happen to you when I found out you got this job, and when your mother told me you were in the hospital…"

The crushing grip Wirt had his phone in began to slacken as he listened.

"Please, son, I'm sorry if I've hurt you in the past, but I want to make things right between us. Leave this job behind, and come home. We can be a family again."

His words made Wirt pause for a moment. His father sounded genuine and sincere for once, like he truly wanted Wirt to come back home, like he really did want to fix things between the two of them. Like he really did want to be a family again.

But Wirt was not convinced.

"Are you serious?!" If he wasn't shouting before, he definitely was now. "You honestly think I'm going to believe any of that? There were so many times in my life where you could have tried to fix everything you did, and you're choosing _now_? What kind of naïve idiot do you take me for?"

"Wirt, I—"

"No shut up! Just shut your mouth and listen for once! I don't want to make things right with you anymore. You are a selfish deadbeat who only cares about making me feel even more like a waste of space than I already feel like I am! And you know what? I'm guessing the only reason you bothered to call me was to gloat about how you were right all along and that what I want to do with my life is a horrible way to live it, and that I really am just a failure that you wish was never born!"

"Now, Wirt, I've never once thought you were a failure—"

Wirt let out a bitter, humorless laugh. "Yeah, right. Cut the bullshit, Dad, we both know that's a lie. Now, if you're not going to try and feed me more _bullshit_ anymore, then you're going to listen to me: never call me again, never talk to me again, never even send me a postcard ever again. I don't need or even want you in my life, and you're going to stay out of my life until the day you die. And while you're staying away from me, you can stay away from Jonathan, you can stay away from Gregory, and you can stay away from Mom. _Especially_ from Mom, and if I ever hear even the slightest implication you've been harassing her, my next birthday present for her is going to be a restraining order against _you_!"

Ignoring his father's angry protests to be reasonable, Wirt lowered the phone and went to hang up, when he was struck with something else and put it back up to his ear.

"Oh, and by the way, since I know you're at your office right now, you can take whatever paperwork you've got on the desk in front of you, roll it up, and _shove it up your ass_!"

He smashed the END CALL button and lay back on his bed, letting out a loud, frustrated breath of air.

Once his temper had gone down enough, Wirt opened his eyes and sat back up. It felt like an enormous weight had been lifted off his shoulders with that call.

Wirt suddenly remembered that Dipper was still there, and heat flooded his cheeks as he turned to him. Dipper was staring at him in what looked like surprise, probably from his sudden burst of anger. "I-I'm—I'm sorry you had to hear that," he said quietly, turning his eyes to the floor.

Dipper shook his head. "You're fine. Just… wow, man. Who was that?"

"I-It was…" _No one. Say no one!_ "… m-my father. My actual father. He… heard from my mom that I'm in the hospital, and… w-we've never really had the best relationship, so…"

Dipper's head tilted to one side. "What do you mean 'actual father'?"

"W-Well, you my brother, Gregory?" Dipper nodded. "He's, really my half-brother. His father's my step-father. My actual father… left when I was six years old."

"Oh man, I'm so sorry—"

"No, don't be." Wirt waved off his apology. After that call, his head and his emotions towards his biological father had become surprisingly clear, for the first time in his entire life. "He's not someone worth apologizing about."

Dipper snorted quietly. "Well, clearly, since you probably just gave him the verbal beat-down of his life. Are you seriously going to get a restraining order for your mom?"

Wirt shrugged, a smile forming. "I don't know. I might."

Dipper laughed, once again making Wirt's heart skip a beat.

The two of them settled back into silence after that, but it was a comfortable silence that Wirt wasn't very used to with anyone except his mother. Greg and Mabel chattered so much he seriously wondered if they even knew the meaning of silence, and Olivia always seemed like she wasn't very good with it. But with Dipper, the silence never turned awkward and forced them to talk to keep it from being so; the silence was comfortable, safe, and warmly welcomed.

"Hey, Wirt?"

When Wirt looked up, Dipper was staring right at him with a look he was unable to describe. Then, slowly, he leaned forward in his chair, reaching out his hand, until it was placed over his own. Wirt swallowed, his heart racing and stomach flipping, and worked to keep looking at Dipper.

"You're not a waste of space," Dipper said to him, softly, but sincerely and firmly. "And you're not a failure. You're… you're the most amazing person I've ever met—you're talented, you're smart, you're funny, and… I'm so lucky I met you. Your dad doesn't deserve to have you in his life, a-and if he really makes you think you're a useless failure, then… well, he's wrong. You're wrong."

Wirt's heart was running wild. He didn't know what to say. Dipper sounded so genuine, so sure of his words, sounded like he was daring Wirt to tell him otherwise. But not in the way his father had sounded a minute ago; in the way that made Wirt believe with all his heart that he was telling the truth.

He wanted to say something. He wanted to say Dipper was exaggerating, that he wasn't that amazing. He wanted to confess his gigantic crush. A part of him wanted to cry.

Instead, all that came out was a whisper, so quiet he wasn't sure if he even said it at all. "Really?"

Dipper leaned closer. "Really."

He was so close now, so close their noses were almost touching. It would be so easy to just lean forward and finally do what he had been longing to do for the past four months…

And then, just before Wirt gathered up enough courage to lean forward, the theremin of the _Doctor Who_ theme rang out, making them both jump and pull away.

While Wirt in his mind swore so much even a sailor would have told him to chill out, Dipper took his phone out of his hoodie pocket and looked to see who was calling him. He swiped his thumb across the screen and pressed his phone to his ear.

"Jeez, Mabel, I almost had a heart-attack!" Of course. _Darn it, Mabel._ "I'm at the hospital with Wirt, like I said I would be. Yes, he's fine. Sure, I'll tell him. Oka—Mabel, I can't understand a word you're saying. Well, it's a lousy Cockney accent. Okay, okay, I'll be there in a few. And tell Olivia to stop trying to teach you different accents, your New England one was bad, too. Yeah, okay. I love you too. Bye."

Dipper hung up and turned to Wirt, an apologetic look on his face. "I should probably go. I promised Mabel I'd help set up her Netflix account. I'll see you tomorrow, all right?"

Wirt nodded, perhaps a little more quickly than necessary. He _wanted_ to see Dipper again tomorrow. "Of course. And at some point, you'll have to tell me what that was about Olivia teaching Mabel different accents."

Grabbing his hat off the edge of his chair, Dipper laughed and shook his head. "Dude, Mabel's my twin sister, and sometimes I have no idea why she does some of the things she does. But I'll make sure to ask. See you tomorrow, Wirt."

He was almost at the door when Wirt suddenly remembered something and called him back. "Dipper!"

Dipper turned back to him. "Yeah?"

"Uh…" Wirt mustered up courage to keep going. "I-I know it's three months late now, but I—I just wanted to say… thank you. For the Stitch doll. It—It was nice of you to remember."

When Dipper didn't say anything for a second, Wirt fretted that he had forgotten about his birthday present for Wirt. Wirt had, after all, gone into that funk immediately after his birthday. Then Dipper grinned at him—it was that friendly smirk that never failed to make Wirt's heart go a mile a minute. "You're welcome, Wirt. I'm glad you liked it. I mean, if you ended up not liking then that's twenty bucks wasted," he cracked, making them both laugh. "See you, Wirt."

"Bye."

That night as he lay under the hospital bedsheets and slept, his hand tingled from Dipper's gentle touch, and emotion-reflecting eyes of chocolate brown danced in his dreams.

Maybe it hurt a little bit, knowing that friends were probably all they were going to be. Maybe they would just be friends for the rest of their lives. Maybe Dipper would never feel the same way Wirt felt about him. Maybe he would find a girl that he clicked with more than he did with Wirt, and maybe they would get married and have cute-yet-devious children someday. That was the chain of events that were most likely to happen.

But there was that little flicker of hope in Wirt's chest, that maybe it wouldn't turn out that way. Maybe someday he would gather up enough courage to confess to Dipper that he had had an enormous crush on him since the day he first met him. Or maybe someday Dipper might confess to him that he had a crush on him, and then Wirt would admit his own crush and they would laugh at their stupidity and go out on a date. He could always dream.

And although the latter sequence of events stood little to no chance of happening, Wirt couldn't help but think about what Dipper had done today. He had held his hand. He had leaned closer, until they were millimeters away from each other. Almost… almost as though he had _wanted_ Wirt to try and kiss him. (And then, of course, the moment had been broken by Mabel's phone call, but Wirt chose not to think about that.) That gave him hope that the latter chain of events might actually become reality.

But… Dipper only cared about him as a friend. Not in a romantic way. In a purely platonic way. Right?

Olivia had even said he only cared about him as a frie—wait.

 _He cares about you, Wirt. A whole lot. Probably more than he'll ever admit._

She hadn't.

* * *

True to the word of the doctors, Wirt was released from the hospital after four days, with the warning to take it easy for up to five weeks so his sprained wrist and ankle could fully heal. Dipper, Mabel, and Olivia welcomed him back with open arms, and Wirt received messages over the group text Mabel had created for the aerial silk performers that all said they were happy he was okay. He was worried for a while about the state of his employment, but Dipper and Jason, the latter of whom had broken his bones so many times it was a wonder he was still alive, reassured him that the managers were empathetic enough to give them all health insurance, since this was, after all, a circus full of death-defying acts.

After the five weeks passed, and he was cleared for work again, Wirt happily returned to work with the other silk performers, having terribly missed being up in the air. It was funny, and a little crazy, that he felt that way, since he supposed any normal-minded person would be afraid to even be in a five-foot radius of the silks.

Then again, any normal-minded person wouldn't recklessly risk life and limb for no reason other than because they loved it, either.

About a month after Wirt returned to work, in early April, Mabel came running towards him, looking like Christmas had come early.

"EEEEE, Wirt, you'll never believe what happened!" She was jumping up and down like a little child on their birthday, causing their fellow silk performers to either laugh or shake their heads at her.

Wirt laughed at her excitement. "What happened, Mabel?"

"Jason just told me that the managers wanted some of the aerial silk and trampoline performers to do a joint encore! And we're two of the aerial silks they picked!"

Wirt's eyes widened in shock. "Wha—Seriously?"

"Seriously," Jason confirmed, walking up to where they stood. The dark-haired, friendly man that Wirt was happy to have as a friend placed a hand on Mabel's shoulder to get her to settle down, an amused grin on his face. "You guys, and me and Lorna, are seriously doing a joint encore with whoever Alex picks from the trampoline act."

Alex was a merry, red-haired man in his early-thirties, who was ridiculously skilled at voice impressions and a passionate lover of flannel. He was one of the older performers for the trampoline act, and he and Dipper often got into heated debates about science fiction.

Wirt raised an eyebrow at Jason. "How did that happen?"

Jason shrugged. "Heck if I know. But the managers are letting us pick who's going to perform, up to four people from each act, select the song we want to use, and choreograph the number. If they like it, we're going to perform it."

If possible, Wirt's raised eyebrow traveled higher. "Again, how did that happen?"

"Again, heck if I know. But we're all going to go meet up in the trampoline practice room after practice today to pick out what song we're doing."

Later that day after practice ended, Wirt, Mabel, Jason, and Lorna all packed up their things and headed for the trampoline practice room. Wirt and Lorna hung back behind Mabel and Jason, the former of whom chattered along to the latter and had an excited and eager bounce in her step.

Lorna was a shy, skinny, dark-haired and pale-skinned young woman that had come all the way from England after passing her audition into La Nouba. Wirt got along pretty well with her, able to relate to being shy and introverted.

"What do you think we'll choose for our number?" Lorna asked him quietly.

Wirt shrugged. "I don't know. It'll probably end up being something we all like. And we both know Mabel's going to suggest _Hamilton_ ," he added, smiling jokingly.

"You're darn right I am!" Mabel replied merrily, having heard their conversation.

Jason and Wirt rolled their eyes while Lorna giggled.

When they entered the trampoline room, they saw the three other people Alex had chosen for the encore; a dark-haired man Wirt didn't recognize who was casually whistling, Olivia, who was whistling along with him, and Dipper, who was in the middle of a discussion with Alex. They were all sitting/lying on one of the massive trampolines.

Alex looked up from talking with Dipper and grinned broadly when he saw them. "Hey, guys!" he called, raising an arm to wave at them. "C'mon up, and we'll get started!"

Mabel immediately dropped her duffel and scrambled to get up onto the trampoline. Jason shook his head good-naturedly at her, then set down his own duffel and followed her. Wirt followed behind Jason, and when he had jumped onto the trampoline he offered his hand to help Lorna up. Then they both bounced over to where the others were already sitting. Everyone introduced each other, Olivia, Dipper, and Alex introducing themselves to Lorna and the dark-haired whistling man introducing himself to the four silk performers as Pat, then they all sat down on the trampoline in a circle.

Wirt, through some invisible force guiding the situation, ended up sitting next to Dipper, who offered him a grin. "Hey."

"Hey," Wirt said, smiling back. "How's it been since lunch?"

"Eh… pretty good, I'd say. I was pretty surprised when Alex told me about the managers wanting us to do an encore. They must've been in a really good mood or something."

Wirt let out a laugh, then shrugged. "Yeah, I was surprised too. I was even more surprised when I found out Jason picked me, instead of someone more experienced like Elijah."

"Well, you have been here for… what, seven months now? I'd say your performance should be pretty solid after seven months. If anything, you should be surprised you haven't been forced to fill in for Jason or Elijah because they broke their legs or somehow hurt themselves at Imperial Outpost."

A bemused Wirt was about to ask about that one when Jason, who had clearly heard them, turned away from the conversation he was having with Alex and shouted, "That was one time, you troll!"

Dipper gave him a cheeky smirk. "Yep, and I'm never letting you live it down!"

Wirt gave him a smirk back. "You really are a little troll," he quipped, pushing the bill of Dipper's cap down over his eyes.

Dipper readjusted the cap and clutched his chest in fake-hurt. "How dare you call me such an infernal word! I am not little!"

"You are to me," Wirt shot back, shoving his shoulder.

"If you lovebirds are done flirting," Olivia suddenly interrupted, making them both swivel their heads to find her smirking slyly at them, "we're ready to get started."

Mabel burst into giggles at her comment, while both Dipper and Wirt flushed a deep red and Dipper mumbled, "Shut up, Olivia."

Alex laughed, then steered them all over to the subject of their meeting. "All right, guys, let's get started. The managers said we could choose any song we wanted, as long as choreography for it is plausible and it's kid-friendly. Any suggestions?"

As songs began to be thrown out, with Mabel indeed suggesting several _Hamilton_ songs, Wirt paid close attention, occasionally throwing in a suggestion of his own. Pat suggested a song from another Cirque du Soleil show, but was immediately shot down by Olivia, who complained that that was too obvious and too predictable. Lorna tentatively suggested a song from a Disney film, which they all agreed was a good suggestion.

"Except _Let It Go_!" Jason declared. "I don't care if you guys hate me for that, but I am completely done with hearing _Let It Go_!"

"Yeah!" Olivia nodded vigorously along with him.

As song suggestions continued, Wirt tried his best to pay close attention and participate, but he couldn't help but notice that one of Dipper's hands had inadvertently settled on his knee at some point during the discussion.

* * *

Two weeks and twenty-eight hours of choreography-planning, heated debates, and choreography-executing later, the encore number was planned, polished, and ready to go.

It was the first time Wirt had ever gotten exposed to what went on backstage before a Cirque du Soleil show: stage managers were running around, making sure all the props were ready for use; performers were doing short run-throughs of their numbers in full makeup and costume; and those who weren't in full makeup and costume were getting that done.

"Is this seriously what you have to go through every time?" Wirt asked Olivia as they waited for their respective costumes. Olivia was getting her costume for the trampoline number, since unlike Wirt she was doing the number every other day, while Wirt was getting his costume for the encore.

"Pretty much, yeah," Olivia replied. She grinned giddily. "Isn't it awesome, though? You're doing your first show, in a totally unique way from everyone else!"

"… I guess that is pretty exciting," Wirt admitted. Mostly, he felt nervous that he was going to do something to mess it up.

Olivia, bless her soul, seemed to deduce what he was thinking, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, you'll do great," she reassured him. "You've been working on this just as hard as everyone else, and you all look great. But to quote my band director, 'Only worry about your performance during the performance.'"

Wirt raised an eyebrow, and cracked a smile, since Olivia quoted her band director very often. "Your band director seems like a very interesting man."

"That's one way of putting it, I guess," Olivia relented. She suddenly caught sight of something over his shoulder, and her eyes widened in surprise as an impressed grin stretched across her face. "Whoa. Check out Dipper."

Immediately, Wirt turned around to look, and froze, his eyes widening. Behind them was Dipper, already in costume for the power track and trampoline number. His costume consisted of simply a full-body leotard that transitioned into different shades of blue all over his body with neon blue lyrical dance shoes. He obviously hadn't gotten his makeup done yet, since the brown of his hair was still visible and Wirt could see every inch of his semi-pale skin. The leotard also stretched over Dipper's body, giving anyone looking a full look at his muscled, fit, and toned self.

Dipper somehow sensed he was being watched and looked over at them, then grinned and waved. Wirt immediately turned red and looked away, but Olivia, who had clearly noticed Wirt's awe and subsequent embarrassment, grinned and shouted, "Damn, Dipper, you work out or something, 'cause you lookin' _fiiiiiiine_!"

Wirt gasped and smacked her shoulder. "Olivia!" he cried, voice cracking a bit. He could hear some people around them laughing at Olivia's shout, Dipper among them.

Olivia only laughed at him, and said innocently, "What? It was just an observation?"

"That was not an observation," Wirt deadpanned. "I wouldn't be surprised if people in the auditorium heard you."

Snorting, Olivia rolled her eyes at him as a costume lady came out and handed her the bag containing her costume. "Come on, we were both thinking it, you prude."

Then she turned and left before Wirt could deny in a high voice that he most certainly had _not_ been thinking that.

A couple of hours later, Wirt sat in a chair as a gum-chewing redhead who had introduced herself as Beatrice put on his makeup. The costumes they were all using for the encore were costumes from an old act that had been taken out of the show sometime in the late nineties.

"Hey, good luck on the encore number," Beatrice said to him as she worked. "Don't mess it up, and you should be fine."

Wirt opened an eye to look witheringly at her. "Thanks," he drawled sarcastically.

Beatrice grinned back at him. "Don't mention it, man."

Mabel skipped up to them, already in full costume and makeup. "Hi, Beatrice!" she chirped. "Lookin' good, Wirt! You excited for the number?"

"Looking forward to it, I guess. What about you?"

"I think it's gonna be so awesome!" Mabel squealed, jumping up and down in excitement. "I've never done something like this before!"

Beatrice brushed on a little more face paint and stepped back to take a look at him. "Okay, aerial silk, you're done. Now get out there and blow 'em all away."

Wirt got up out of the chair, and a giddy, excited feeling immediately filled him from head to toe. This was it. This was his first real performance for Cirque du Soleil, and it was going to be something unique that no one else had ever done before. He could hardly believe that it had been seven months since he first started; looking back, it felt like it had only been two.

Mabel squealed, bouncing up and down. "Let's go!" She grabbed his wrist and took off, heading for the stairs that would take them up to the platform above the stage. Wirt let her take his wrist, and ran along with her, the biggest smile on his face and a peal of laughter escaping him.

When they got up to the platform, the finale was just ending, and as Wirt wrapped his silk around his waist, he heard the audience burst into applause, cheering and whistling. His heart thudded in his chest as adrenaline began to rush into his system. In five minutes, he was going to put on the performance of his life, and proving to the audience exactly why he had been chosen for Cirque du Soleil.

Wirt's eyes looked across the stage at Jason, who was standing in position on another platform across the stage. Jason caught his eyes, and grinned at him and gave him a thumbs-up, mouthing, "Good luck,"

He gave a thumbs-up in return, then turned to Lorna, who was standing about fifteen feet away, wrapping her own silk around her waist. She sensed someone was looking at her and looked up at him. He smiled and gave her a thumbs-up, both of which she returned.

As the applause, cheers, and whistles died down, replaced by quiet conversations as the auditorium lights came on and the audience prepared to get up and leave, Mabel loudly whispered "Good luck!" to them all. And she was just in time, too, because two seconds later a voice came over the PA system:

"Ladies and gentlemen, we ask that you please remain in your seats for a very special presentation. Tonight, performers from the aerial ballet in silk and power track and trampoline acts will perform a never-before-seen encore. Please enjoy, and we hope you have enjoyed your time with La Nouba!"

A hush fell over the audience as the stage and auditorium went completely dark. Wirt sucked in a deep breath as a soft pink light shined over the stage, where Dipper, Olivia, Alex, and Pat stood on a platform above four trampolines, and the music began.

The song they had picked was "Wait for It" from _Hamilton_ , much to Mabel and Olivia's delight. But they had all agreed it was an amazing song, and had worked to make the choreography just as stellar.

Wirt stepped off the platform, falling to roll sideways down the silk as the warm tones of Leslie Odom Jr. rang out in the auditorium. He couldn't see, but he knew that across the stage Mabel was doing the same, and that in a couple beats Olivia and Alex would jump onto their trampolines and do backflips as they switched to each other's trampolines, Dipper and Pat doing the same in a sort of ripple effect.

At the right spot in the music, Wirt stopped his fall and twisted into position, soaring around the stage, seeing out of the corner of his eye Jason and Lorna doing the same move he and Mabel had just done. Alex and Pat now jumped back onto the platform while Dipper and Olivia did somersaults in the air as they jumped across the four trampolines, each on either end.

There were two claps at this part, where all four silk artists swung in a circle in midair and swung their free leg back and forth in time to the claps.

" _Love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints. It takes, and it takes, and it takes…_ "

At some point Wirt stopped glancing around to see if he was on point and instead focused on himself. He had done hundreds of performances on the aerial silks, but not one of them had ever been like this; in front of a huge audience, performing a number he was putting his heart and soul into, adrenaline rushing through his body. It was a wholly new experience for him. And honestly? It was invigorating.

This was why he had accepted the offer to join La Nouba—so he could be a part of this amazing experience that dazzled audiences around the world, dazzling them and changing them just as it had dazzled and changed him when he was ten years old.

This was the pause before the music changed from soft and gentle to loud and passionate. Two beats before the pause ended, Olivia jumped. Her feet hit the trampoline, and she shot up into the air to do a full split perfectly in time as the music began again. Dipper and Pat flew up on either side as she came down, doing somersaults in the air. Jason and Mabel twisted their bodies to form discs, and they spun around the stage as Wirt and Lorna maneuvered their bodies so they were upside down, and swirled in place.

The performance continued, and through the soft pink light Wirt could pick out faces in the audience, awe and rapture etched into all of them. They were loving it.

And that was another thing that made this performance so invigorating—he was doing something he loved to do with all his heart and soul, and just like the audience, he was loving every second of it. Any nervousness about messing up the performance had long since evaporated, replaced by an overwhelming feeling of happiness and anticipation.

" _Hamilton doesn't hesitate. He exhibits no restraint. He takes, and he takes, and he takes…_ "

The music slowed down as the stage darkened and the soft pink light now shone only on the aerial silk performers. Wirt willed his mind to focus again; there was a part coming up that was going to be incredibly risky for both him and Lorna. Jason and Mabel twisted away out of range and Lorna and Wirt spun into their positions on either side of the stage.

" _And if there's a reason he seems to thrive when so few survive, then goddamnit I'm willing to wait for it._ "

Wirt bent his knees against the hard surface.

" _I'm willing to—_ "

Then he and Lorna jumped, letting go of their silks. Time seemed to slow down as they flew freely through the air, eyes fixed on the silk in front of them. Wirt stretched out his hand as he passed Lorna in midair, not knowing that not just people in the auditorium but the people performing were holding their breath…

And then he caught the silk, bending and twisting himself easily and fluidly into position.

The audience burst into applause as the lights came back up on the stage, where Alex, Pat, Olivia, and Dipper were now taking turns doing tricks in midair.

Wirt felt light-headed, not from blood rushing out of his brain, but from the excitement that _he had just pulled off the riskiest move he had ever done_. A full-fledged grin was on his face now, joining the seven others of the performers.

When the song ended, and the silk artists twisted into their final positions and the four trampoline performers fell still on the platform, the audience exploded in a roaring applause. The stage went dark, for good this time, and the auditorium lights came on.

Wirt barely remembered coming down and getting off the stage, but he did remember coming backstage to tumultuous applause from all the performers that had watched the encore from backstage. Then Olivia was tackling him into a hug, any filter she used to contain her excitement completely gone, and both of them were laughing with pure joy at what they had just done. Then Mabel and Dipper appeared, both looking excited at their performance. Then Jason, Pat, Alex, and Lorna appeared behind them, all of them looking tired but immensely happy. Then Mabel shouted, "La Nouba family group hug!" and all the people around them all crowded in close to do just that.

The lightheaded feeling and the adrenaline remained in Wirt's body for a long while after that, even after he had gotten his makeup removed, returned his costume, and changed back into his street clothes. Most performers had left by then, except the eight who had performed the encore; they, as per Mabel's suggestion, were all going out for a late dinner to celebrate their successful performance.

Wirt had slung his duffel over his shoulder and was walking to head out of the boys' locker room, feeling as though he were walking on air, when the door opened and Dipper ran in, looking determined about something. He stopped when he saw Wirt, who had likewise frozen in place. "Uh… hey," Dipper said awkwardly.

"Hey," Wirt breathed.

Dipper suddenly looked like a deer in headlights, for whatever reason. "Just, uh… came to get my duffel. So… don't mind me."

He power-walked past Wirt, over to his duffel bag. "Great performance tonight, man," he called over his shoulder. "You did great."

"Thanks," Wirt replied, waiting for him to pack up his things. "You did great, too."

"You think so?"

"Absolutely."

Dipper swung his duffel over his shoulder, and turned to Wirt, laughing when he saw the elated expression still on his face. And was it Wirt's imagination, or was his laugh a tad awkward? "You look like Christmas came early," he teased.

Wirt laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as Dipper walked over to join him. "Do I? Sorry, it's just adrenaline, I guess. From the performance. I feel like I could do… anything, right now," he confessed.

Dipper had a gentle smile on his face, and damn if that wasn't the cutest thing Wirt had ever seen. "Me too," he agreed.

They were silent for a moment, just simply staring at each other.

 _Screw it,_ Wirt decided, and dropped his duffel bag on the floor.

Then he grabbed Dipper's face in both hands, and kissed him hard on the mouth.

Wirt heard Dipper gasp against his lips before leaning into the kiss, holding Wirt's head in his own hands. His willingness to kiss back, instead of pushing him away and angrily yelling "What the hell?!" at him sent Wirt's mind into overdrive.

What did that mean? Did Dipper like him in that way? But hadn't Mabel said he liked girls?

There was only one possible conclusion:

 _Dipper liked him too._

Wirt pulled away, slowly opening his eyes to look at Dipper, who had a dumbstruck look on his face from what had just happened. "I have been wanting to do _that_ ," he breathed, because Dipper was literally taking his breath away right now, "for seven whole months."

Dipper blinked before responding, still in a dumbstruck manner, "No kidding." He sounded surprised, but a smile was slowly forming on his face. "Same here."

 _Come on, idiot,_ a voice that sounded strangely like Olivia said in his mind. _Ask him already!_

"Dipper Pines," Wirt began, fighting back the nervousness beginning to bubble up, "will you go out with me?"

Dipper blinked in surprise, before grabbing Wirt and kissing him again. When he pulled away, he had the silliest yet cutest grin on his face. "I thought you'd never ask," he said breathlessly.

Elatedness filled Wirt from head to toe, and unable to help himself he grabbed Dipper and kissed him again.

When they exited the locker room, the dorkiest smiles on their faces and hands intertwined, Wirt saw Mabel and Olivia exchange triumphant smirks but stay silent. "Well," Mabel chirped, "let's go!"

Olivia raised an eyebrow, a knowing and sly smirk now etched on her face. "Wirt," she said conversationally, "any reason Dipper's hat is on your head?"

Wirt immediately turned red, as did Dipper, but Dipper was able to save the situation. "Oh, wow!" he exclaimed, grabbing his hat off Wirt's head and slapping back on his own. "How did that get there?"

"You tell me!" Olivia may as well have demanded.

"No can do; what happens in the locker room stays in the locker room."

"Ah, screw you!"

"Sorry, I'm taken."

Wirt couldn't help but smack Dipper's shoulder for that one.

Mabel, thankfully, jumped in before any of them could say anything else. "Hey guys, last one to my car's a rotten egg!" she exclaimed, before taking off down the hallway.

"You're on!" Olivia exclaimed before dashing after her.

Dipper sighed in half-exasperation, shaking his head, before turning to Wirt and offering him a smile. "Wanna go together?"

"Hmm." Wirt pretended to think about it. "Nah, I'd rather do this." He leaned in and kissed him deeply, waiting a few seconds before pulling away and taking off down the hallway. "Try and keep up!" he called laughingly over his shoulder.

"You jerk!" Dipper yelled.

Wirt only laughed and turned back around, continuing his run down the hallway, while hearing Dipper dashing after him.

It was safe to say that Wirt Palmer had never felt this happy in his life.

And honestly?

It was the best feeling in the world.

* * *

 **Okay, if you've gotten this far, then here's my full explanation, along with little fun facts about the story you may or may not have noticed:**

 **This is my first time ever writing a Pinescone story. Pinescone has been one of my OTPs for a very long while now, and I've had several ideas for Pinescone stories, but I've never actually gotten them written down. I have also been head-over-heels in love with Cirque du Soleil ever since my family went to see it with my grandparents when I was maybe ten years old. So two days ago, I was riding on the bus when inspiration to write a Pinescone/Cirque du Soleil AU story hit me like a freight train, and I've been writing this story ever since I got home. And then finally this morning, after two days and probably another full day's-worth of hours working on this thing, I finally finished it. As you can plainly tell from the size of this story, I got a little carried away, but I am seriously in LOVE with this ship so... yay me for finishing, I guess!**

 **Little fun facts you may or may not have noticed:**

 **Since I am obviously not a Cirque du Soleil performer, I really do not know jack about what goes on during their practices or how they're structured. Everything I've written about the rehearsals is purely my own imagination, because I was too lazy to go look it up and I urgently needed to get this story written down.**

 **In regards to Dipper doing the diabolo act with a bunch of young girls, let's just headcanon that those La Nouba makeup artists are really good. ;)**

 **I've also had a headcanon for a while that since Mabel had a crush on Alexander Hamilton before he was cool, she's ridiculously obsessed with** _ **Hamilton**_ **and dances around the Mystery Shack singing the songs at the top of her lungs, annoying Dipper and the Grunkles to no end. Which is why I thought it wildly hilarious when I found out Jason Ritter loves** _ **Hamilton**_ **(go on YouTube and watch the video of him singing "You'll Be Back"** **—it's glorious.)**

 **As for who Olivia is, she's pretty much me. I've always thought ever since I first watched _Over the Garden Wall_ that Wirt was in serious need of a best friend, and so that kind of went into this story. Wirt is one of my smol children. **

**Major props to whoever gets the joke about _Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency_. ;)**

 **Since the whereabouts of Wirt's biological father and the reason why Wirt has a step-dad were never revealed in the show, my explanation is that Wirt's father is a deadbeat that left Wirt and his mother when Wirt was six years old, who usually only wants to talk to Wirt when he wants to criticize or put down his son.**

 **Everyone loves** _ **Lilo and Stitch**_ **, so I thought, "Why not Wirt?" I also thought it was appropriate for my headcanon concerning Wirt's father. Since Wirt grew up in a rather dysfunctional family situation, it seemed appropriate that he would be attracted to a movie about a family that was just as, if not more, dysfunctional as his own, but still loved each other regardless. (And you all can thank my tenth grade English class for that long, philosophical explanation.)**

 **Another one of my headcanons for Wirt is that, while he swears a lot in his mind like everyone else does (come on, admit it, you do it too), he only swears out loud when his temper is lost.**

 **Alex, Jason, Pat, and Elijah (who was only mentioned twice) are the story versions of Alex Hirsch, Jason Ritter, Pat McHale, and Elijah Wood. I just thought it would be funny to put them in there, heh.**

 **Also, some of you may be thinking Wirt was overreacting a little bit when he found out Dipper had a crush on Wendy, but here's my way of looking at it: Wirt generally seems like the type of person to have anxiety attacks and seriously overthink things, as was displayed when he heard that Jason Funderberker was going to ask out Sara. And since he doesn't have Greg (another one of my smol children) there to calm him down and be his voice of reason, he's going to freak out and think that Dipper is straight, and then be a depressed little boyo for a while.** **FULL DISCLOSURE: As stated before, this is my first time writing and publishing a full Pinescone story, and even as I'm writing this I'm very nervous about publishing it. This is also my first time writing for a same-sex pairing, so I'm well-out of my comfort zone. But I thought I'd give it a shot this time around, and as you can see what started out as simply dipping my feet in ended up being a jump off the diving board into the deep end.**

 **-looks over my work- Whew, that was a lot! At close to 20,000 words, this breaks the record as my longest one-shot ever. I hope you all enjoyed my humble yet freakishly-long attempt at a Pinescone story! If you liked it, give it a fav or maybe even a review (hinthintwinkwinknudgenudge)! And since, again, this is my first Pinescone story, constructive criticism is welcomed, but please be nice. No flames or telling me this was total horse crap, please.**

 **Gryffyn out. Peace, eat your dirt, and buy gold BYYYEE!**


End file.
